


Cycles

by positivelyprouvaire



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-10 23:58:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7866799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/positivelyprouvaire/pseuds/positivelyprouvaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A late night in the laundry room calls for a new friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2 A.M.

    As he dragged his pen lazily across his notebook, Patroclus noticed his writing becoming increasingly illegible. He began turning the page when a shrill alarm from his phone broke the silence and startled him enough to make him accidentally tear his notes. After silencing his alarm, he noticed the time and groaned to himself. It was already 2 in the morning, and that meant it was time to start doing his laundry.

Patroclus pushed himself away from his desk and begrudgingly gathered his dirty clothes and his laundry soap. He balanced a textbook under one arm and his laundry basket under the other and made his way downstairs to the laundry room. With the way his schedule was laid out, he didn’t have time to wash his clothes in between classes, so he often found himself doing it late at night. Patroclus didn’t mind it too much though, as he found it easier to study in the quiet laundry room where no one would interrupt him.

Finally, he arrived at the laundry room and gave a sigh of relief upon finding it empty. He began loading up a washing machine and as he reached towards his pockets for some coins, he heard a loud thud outside in the hallway, followed by someone mumbling, “shit!”

Patroclus leaned his head out of the doorway and into the hall. “Is everything okay?” He looked around and saw a blonde guy, about his age, picking up a large container of laundry soap off the floor.

“Oh yeah, it’s cool,” the guy said as he gathered the rest of his belongings and pushed past Patroclus into the laundry room. 

Still in the doorway, Patroclus turned to face the other boy. “What are you doing down here so late, anyways?”

“I could ask the same of you.” He swung around and looked at Patroclus, who couldn’t help but notice the boy’s chin-length blonde hair swing around his face.

“This is really the only time I could do this.”

“As you can see,” he motioned to his body, only wearing boxers, “I don’t have a whole lot of clean options. It was either do it now or smell like garbage tomorrow. I’m Achilles, by the way. What’s your name?”

“My, uh, what?” Patroclus tore his gaze away from Achilles’ abs to see his outstretched hand. Taking it in his own, he said, “Oh sorry, my name’s Patroclus.”

Achilles turned back to his washing machine and tossed a crumpled ball of clothes inside.

“You know, you should really separate your darks from your lights.”

Achilles sighed. “Listen, man, I’m just asking for clean clothes.” He shut the door and started the machine. “I don’t really care what it looks like.” He strode over to a table on the back wall of the room, hoisted himself onto it and put some headphones in.

Shrugging to himself, Patroclus pulled a small folding chair over to another table and began reading more of his textbook. Eventually, the only noises in the room were the whirring of the machines and the occasional flip of a page. After a while, both machines began to produce an annoying beeping noise. Patroclus opened the door of his and moved the clothes to a dryer. He waited for Achilles to do the same, but when Patroclus glanced in his direction he saw that he’d fallen asleep on the table, one earbud dangling over the side of it. He chuckled to himself and moved Achilles’ laundry for him.

Once their clothes had finished drying, he took them out of the dryers and put them back into their baskets. Patroclus looked over at Achilles, still asleep with his elbow propped up on the table and his head in his hand.

“Hey, wake up.” He poked Achilles in the ribs. “Achilles. Wake up.” Achilles awoke, startled, as his head slipped and smacked down hard on the table beneath him. He cursed while Patroclus unsuccessfully tried to cover up a laugh. “Your laundry’s ready.”

Achilles slowly swung his legs over the side of the table and hopped off of it. “Thanks, Pat. Can I call you Pat?”

“Yeah, sure.” Patroclus gathered up his things and started walking through the door, wanting nothing more than the sweet relief of sleep in his own bed and not a crappy folding table. He stopped when he heard a voice speak up behind him.

“Hey, maybe I’ll see you around sometime?”

Patroclus turned and smiled back at Achilles. “Yeah, hope so.” He turned back to the hallway and began to walk back to his room.

Once he arrived at his room, he reached into his laundry basket to start folding his clothes. To his surprise, he fished out a light pink, splotchy t-shirt that he knew had to have been white in a previous life. After inspecting the rest of the clothes, he realized he recognized none of them. Too tired to go track down Achilles and switch clothes, he told himself that he’d find him the next morning. 


	2. Band-Aids and Broken Noses

   “A large coffee for Achilles!” Upon hearing his name called, Achilles rose from his chair and made his way over to the counter where the barista had set his drink. After the nap in the laundry room, he didn’t get as much sleep as he’d hoped and needed to stay awake somehow. Clutching his cup, he brought it over to a separate table that held straws, napkins, and various coffee mix-ins. He took off the lid and dumped in as much sugar as the cup would allow. Achilles replaced the lid and exited the cafe.

    He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time as he began heading towards his first class of the day. Despite almost being trampled by rogue bikers on more than one occasion, he made it to his communications class in one piece. Achilles took a seat in his regular spot and waited for his class to begin.

    Suddenly he heard a voice calling over to him. “Hey Achilles!” He looked over to see Odysseus walking down the aisle of seats towards him. Odysseus tossed his backpack onto the desk next to Achilles’ and eyed him over with a  strange look on his face. “Is that a new shirt? I mean it’s cool but it doesn’t really seem like your style.”

    Achilles tugged on the deep purple graphic tee he was wearing. “I uh, yeah it’s new.”

* * *

  Once class was over, Achilles left the room feeling slightly more awake and started towards his dorm room. He reached for the door handle of his building when someone on the other side swung it open quickly, smacking Achilles in the process. He was caught completely off guard and the force of the door knocked him off his feet, sending him ass-first to the concrete.

    The sounds of Achilles’ cursing were muffled by the urgent apologies coming from the person who’d hit him. Achilles looked up to see who was apologizing frantically.

    “Patroclus?” Achilles watched his dark brown eyes grow wide in realization.

    “Oh my god, Achilles! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

    Holding a hand up to his face, Achilles felt blood starting to drip from his nose.

    Patroclus hurriedly kneeled next to him, trying to help him stand back up. “Here! Come sit on this bench. I have a small first aid kit in my backpack, I’ll help you.” He lifted Achilles by his arms and led him to a small wooden bench outside the residence hall. He could’ve told Patroclus that he was able to stand up just fine on his own, but then again, why object to a gorgeous guy helping you up? Patroclus sat his backpack down on the bench next to Achilles and rummaged through it. Not long after, he pulled out a large white box and set it on Achilles’ lap.

    Achilles chuckled. “This is small?”

    “Hey, you never know what you might need. If I didn’t have this, you may have bled out on the sidewalk, for all we know!”

    “Okay, Pat, whatever you say,” he replied. Patroclus began cleaning up Achilles’ face with gentle strokes, applying bandages where necessary. He eventually looked down to see what Achilles was wearing.

    “Is that my shirt?”

    “In my defense, I did say that I had no clean options. And if I remember correctly, you were the one who mixed up our clothes last night.”

    Patroclus glared at him. “Do you want to die here?”

    Achilles shook his head with a bit of exaggeration. “Of course not, Doctor Pat.”

    “Don’t joke. I may only be a pre-med student, but one day I will be Doctor Pat. Now shut up and let me heal you.”

    Keeping the snark to a minimum, he let Patroclus finish fixing him up.

    Patroclus took a step back. “Okay I’m finished.”

    “Oh man, thanks for saving my life, Doc.” In response, Patroclus playfully punched him in the shoulder. Achilles pointed to where he’d hit him and asked, “Hey, you got an ice pack for that?” Pat couldn’t help but laugh. Achilles pushed himself back onto his feet and looked over at the door that’d hit him. “Are you heading back in or were you going to go somewhere?”

    “I was just gonna grab something to eat, but while we’re both here we should go switch out clothes back.” He stuffed his first aid kit back in his backpack and threw that over his shoulder. They walked back over to the building’s entrance. When Pat reached towards the door to open it, Achilles smiled and feigned flinching away from it. He looked up at the other, who let out a small chuckle in return.

    The two went upstairs to Pat’s room first. He slid his key into the lock and pushed the door open. There was nothing remarkable about his room besides a few pictures of friends and family members that hung on a wall below a small set of string-lights.

    Pat reached for his laundry basket that sat at the foot of his bed.

    “Did you fold my clothes?” Achilles was shocked, but very appreciative.

    A blush crept over Patroclus’ face. “Yeah, I mean I couldn’t let your clothes be splotchy _and_  wrinkled.”

    “No, that’s cool. Thanks, Pat, I probably wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t.”

    “Maybe we ought to do laundry together more often. To cure your wrinkly clothes epidemic, of course.”

    Achilles smiled. “Yeah, of course.”

    It was silent for a few moments until Patroclus spoke up. “Should we go to your room now?” Achilles nodded and left the room with Pat in tow, locking his door behind him. His room was one floor above Pat’s and much more decorated. Posters, photographs, and various road signs cluttered the walls. How he acquired the road signs, Patroclus preferred not to imagine. Achilles dragged his laundry basket over to Pat.

    “I’m sure you’ll want this back.” Achilles began to take off the purple t-shirt, showing off a bit of those abs Patroclus remembered all too well.

    Patroclus put up a hand to stop him. “No it’s okay, really. You can keep it.” Achilles tugged the shirt back down.

    “Thanks, Pat. Sorry I didn’t fold your clothes, too.” He glanced down at the clothes with a frown.

    “Don’t worry about it. Nothing a cycle through the dryer can’t fix.” He went to leave Achilles’ room but stopped in his tracks. He turned back around and walked over to the desk, picking up a pen from its surface. “In case you need me to hit you with any more doors, you’ll know where to find me.” He scribbled his phone number on a notepad, dropped the pen on the desk, and left with his clothes. Stunned, Achilles closed the door after him. He tore the page off the notepad and slipped it into his pocket with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me, guys :) Hope you enjoy!


	3. In Which Briseis is Extremely Interested in Patroclus' Love Life

    Patroclus shifted uneasily in his chair as he stared at his phone screen. He was startled when a hand reached out and touched his shoulder. Beside him sat his best friend, Briseis.

    “Pat, what’s up? You’re all jumpy and can’t keep your eyes off your phone.” There was a genuine look of concern in her deep brown eyes.

    Patroclus placed his phone face-down on the desk in front of him. “Nothing. Just kind of expecting a text.”

    Briseis reached up idly to her large hair clip and undid it, causing her mass of curly, dark hair to spill over her shoulders. “It must be some important text.”  
    “Well there’s this guy…” He paused when he saw her give him a knowing smirk. “Stop, Bri.” She continued nudging him and winking exaggeratedly. Pat recounted the incident in the laundry room as well as how he’d hit Achilles with a door just a few hours ago.

    Briseis took a sip of her coffee. “Wow, Pat, you gave him your number, too? That’s big for you.”

    “What the hell was I thinking, Bri?” He fell forward, letting his head fall down onto the desk in exasperation.

    “Now the ball’s in his court. He’s the only one who can make a move since you don’t have his number.”

    Patroclus sighed, “No wonder he’s not talking to me. I hit him with a fucking door.”

    She chuckled. “Please, I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad. This guy would be an idiot not to call you.”

    Their conversation came to an end when the professor entered the classroom, locking the door behind him.

    “Okay class, let’s begin.”

* * *

    After an excruciating hour of calculus, the class was over.

    “Bri, go on ahead of me. I gotta talk to the professor real quick. I’ll meet you outside.” She nodded in response and walked up the stairs to the back doors of the lecture hall. Patroclus made his way down the steps, pushing against the waves of other students trying to leave. He was doing a reasonably good job at avoiding the opposite flow of people until he collided head-first with someone. He looked up to see a familiar mop of blonde hair.

    “Oh my god, not again,” Patroclus muttered. Achilles looked up and immediately let out a snicker. _If he hadn’t texted me yet,_ Pat thought, _he sure as hell won’t now._

    “Hey! I didn’t know you were in this class.”

    “Yeah. There are so many people in here I’m not too surprised that we haven’t run into each other before. Pun intended.” Pat grinned shyly, satisfied that his impeccable sense of humor had not yet faltered.

    Achilles smiled. “Well, I’ve got to go, but maybe we can get together and study sometime.”

    “I’d like that.”

    Achilles waved goodbye as he continued up the stairs.

    Pat finally reached the bottom of the staircase and found the professor. He came across as quite intimidating but was always happy to help out his students, which Patroclus was eternally grateful for. They chatted for a few moments and afterwards, he leapt back up the now-empty staircase to go find Briseis. He opened the door and sunlight filtered in. Outside, Briseis was stretched out over a bench, a pair of bright yellow sunglasses contrasted against her dark skin. She sat up when she heard Pat call her name.

    “Bri! He’s in this class!”

    She lifted her glasses from her face and rested them on top of her head. “Who?”

    “The guy I told you about! Achilles!”

    Briseis swung her legs over the bench and sat upright. “No way, really?”

    Pat nodded perhaps a bit too eagerly.

    “You should ask him to sit with us tomorrow!” Bri said, practically beaming. “I’ve really gotta meet this guy.”

    He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know about that. Especially after what happened the last time I introduced you to a guy I liked.”

    Briseis crossed her arms in opposition. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Pat.”

    “You threatened to beat him up if he ever did anything to hurt me!”

    “Someone’s got to protect you! You sure as hell can’t do it yourself.”

    “Fine,” Patroclus sighed in defeat. “If I see him before class I’ll ask him.”

    Briseis leapt to her feet with a smile. “Great!” She linked arms with Patroclus and started skipping away from the lecture hall, dragging him behind her.

* * *

    Later that evening, Patroclus sat alone in his room. He finally  had a free night that wasn’t dominated by studying and he wanted to make the most of it. He reached for his laptop as he flopped down onto the bed. Rolling onto his stomach, he opened his laptop and popped a DVD into the slot. That night was the first night of his Harry Potter movie marathon that he was infamous for never finishing. Because of this, he’d seen the first movie so many times he could practically recite it from memory, yet he’d only seen the last movie once.

    Rather than letting him watch a movie, Patroclus’ body decided that he needed more sleep. He wasn’t even halfway through the movie before he started snoring, his hand loosely sitting in his popcorn bowl. Around 3 a.m., he woke up to find his hand covered in fake butter and the movie menu screen playing repeatedly on his laptop. He closed his computer shut and tried to carefully place it on the floor, wincing at the crashing noise it made as it fell out of his hands and collided with the ground. The same mistake was made with the bowl of popcorn. Patroclus cursed to himself, knowing he’d step on kernels the next morning. He decided that problem was one to be dealt with the next day and quickly fell back asleep.

    When he woke up again later that morning, he saw a few texts from Briseis. One was a reminder that read, “Don’t forget to ask him!” followed by a text consisting solely of the eggplant emoji and a winky face.

    “Bri, classy as always.” He stretched and meandered over to his coffee maker, failing to avoid stepping on most of the popcorn kernels.

    Patroclus knew that his coffee-making abilities were lackluster but decided to push through it today. Once he was moderately satisfied with the coffee he made, he headed out of his room towards the library. He finally arrived and set himself up at an empty table next to a window. He occasionally took part in people-watching to pass the time before calculus, his only class that day.

    A while had passed by the time he left for class. Upon reaching the building, he found Briseis sitting in the row of seats closest to the back doors. Patroclus took a seat beside her.

    Briseis turned to look at him. “Hey. You see him out there?”

    “Nah.” He kept his gaze focused downward, unlike Briseis who was craning her neck looking for Achilles.

    “You’re not even looking, Pat!”

    “Bri, we’re right next to the doors. If he comes in, there’s no way we’d miss him.”

    Another ten or so minutes had passed when the professor locked the door and began lecturing, no Achilles in sight. Bri glared at her friend.

    About fifteen minutes into class, Patroclus felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the screen, finding about five consecutive texts from a random phone number. He scrolled through the texts.

    “Pat, I need your help”

    “Please! The prof. Locked the door and I’m stuck out here”  
    “I can’t miss this class. Can you please sneak me in?”

    “It’s Achilles, btw”

    “Look behind you”

    Patroclus shifted in his seat and looked over his shoulder. Achilles stood pressed up against the door with the most pitiful look on his face.

    “Please!” he mouthed.

    Pat shifted back and turned towards Briseis, nudging her with his elbow. She gave him a confused look to which he responded by nodding behind them at the door where Achilles stood. Bri slowly spun around to see what he was motioning towards. Immediately she turned back and whispered to Patroclus, “He’s so hot, oh my god!”

    “Bri, he texted me and asked if I’d sneak him in.”

    She grinned and Patroclus could already see that she was devising a plan in her head. “Okay. Tell him to go to the other door,” she pointed towards a door on the right side of the room, “and I’ll distract the professor so you can let him in.”

    Patroclus was skeptical. “You sure that’ll work?”

    “Of course it—” Their conversation was interrupted by an angry student shushing them. Bri lowered her voice more, “Of course it will work! When have I ever let you down?”  
    “No comment…” he remarked. As quietly as he could manage, Patroclus slid out of his chair and got down on his hands and knees. He looked back at the Achilles and motioned for him to go to the other door. Pat prayed that nobody was watching as he crawled on the ground towards the next door over. He stopped momentarily when he heard Briseis loudly interrupt the professor’s lecture. She began asking questions about derivatives and he continued on his way to Achilles. He reached the door and carefully undid the lock. Panic seized him when it made a decent sounding click and he worriedly glanced around him, making sure nobody heard him. Achilles slid the door open, quietly. As soon as he stepped in the room, Patroclus clutched him by the wrist and yanked him down onto the floor. Briseis had just finished asking another obnoxiously loud question as the two returned to the seats next to her.

    Achilles let out a sigh of relief and whispered to Patroclus. “Oh my gosh, you’re a lifesaver, Patroclus. I really owe you one.”

    “I think you do,” Pat chuckled as he looked at the red rug-burn on his knees, “cause I don’t have anything in my first-aid kid for that.”

    Suddenly an arm was thrust in front of Patroclus. “Hello, you must be Achilles. I’m Briseis, official best friend and bodyguard to Pat.”

    Achilles shook her hand. “The pleasure’s mine, Briseis.”

    She grinned happily as Patroclus just rolled his eyes and wondered what he was going to have to deal with next, thanks to these two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks so much for reading :) I'll be leaving for college in a couple weeks so hopefully I won't fall too behind on posting, but please bear with me. So apologies in advance, but I will try very hard to get more written and uploaded in my spare time :) Thanks again!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! As always, any feedback is greatly appreciated :)


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